


Responsible, forever

by ShippyAngel



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 17:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippyAngel/pseuds/ShippyAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Ziva are stuck at NCIS until at least midnight, while it's her birthday...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Responsible, forever

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I mean no profits with this story. The show and its characters belong to their owners - and I'm no way related to them.

Tony and Ziva are the only ones left at the bullpen.

Gibbs was the first to leave, earlier in the evening. The senior agent made sure to throw them one last look before getting in the elevator - as though punishing them for taking so long to wrap up a simple case. Being businesslike as always, McGee was done around 9 pm. And right after him, all the other agents start to head home as well, one by one.

And so apart from the noise coming from the keyboards being pressed, the only sound that can be heard is the sighs coming from two sleep deprived and exhausted hungry people...

With one last stretch of his back, Tony raises from his position. Opening the top drawer, he pulls an object and walks slowly towards his partner's spot.

Ziva remains exactly as she is; focused on the neverending paperwork and ignoring his presence altogether - even though she's quite aware of each and every step that he takes. No, she is not in the mood to deal with one of his jokes. She believes he's like a child; in which case it's best to bypass his existence than give him attention.

But her so-called childish partner has different plans... He'd rather insist until he gets some reaction. When he's close enough to brush his thighs against the table, Tony puts a white cube with a red ribbon in the only unoccupied space he finds at the said surface. He throws the brunette a killer smile, despite of the fact that she refuses to aknowledge it.

"What is it, Tony?", Ziva asks, more than just a little pettished; her gaze still stuck at the computer screen.

His smile just grows bigger, to the point where there are deep lines around his eyes. "Happy Birthday,  _mon petit pois._ "

And that's what it takes to get her full attention. Ziva instantly forgets about her work, frowning her forehead and sitting up straight. She parts her lips and starts to formulate an reply, "But my birthday is only tomorr-"

They look in unison at he large clock hanging from the wall.

Ziva stares at the target in surprise.

Tony just sends her a smug glance. "It's past midnight", he accounts, with a shrug. Commiting her expression of wonder as one of his most cherished small pleasures, the older agent nods at the little box neglected on her table.

Her eyes soften, even before she knows what's inside, and releases a knot of tension that's been hurting her neck throughout the day. She feels her stomach doing flip-flops and it's silly - an adject she never thought she would apply to herself -, but damn he remembers her birthday and it suddenly feels like the day can't get any better.

Undoing the oversized bow, Ziva recognizes the logo from the bakery around the corner. She lifts up eyebrow at him. Not that she has any reason to complain, but she decides that he deserves a little teasing. "You got me a cake as a birthday present?"

Tony throws her a good roll of his eyes. He rests his right hand on his chest and protests, "Mrs. David, you hurt my feelings." Crossing his arms, he completes, "What do you think I am? A cheapskate?"

They both laugh until their shoulders shake; their connection once again undeniable; so strong and obvious for the world to see...

(But it's just the two of them.)

The silence overcomes what the sexual tension between them is yet to fill. And so Ziva gulps loudly, opening the package without letting go of his gaze.

When she finally looks down, she feels her heart stutter. In any other time or place or person involved, she might have laughed, mocked without a care. But this is her and this is Tony and... and that's a 'Little Prince' cupcake.

The black chocolate icing is covered by a much bigger topping; the frosty surface is made of small crown-shapped cookies and a copy of the Little Prince himself, made of mashmallow.

She had never seen a themed cupcake before - had never looked for one, either - and it's a harmless adorable thing. But at the same time it represents such an intimate moment they'd shared not long ago.

 _'What is essential is invisible to the eye'_ , she remembers perfectly, as though it was yesterday. And if those words made sense back then; they make even more right now.

Ziva suddenly feels touched, humbled and speechless... She shakes a little, even though she tries to hide.

And Tony feels proud, so sure of himself. His hands are soaked in sweat because this is it; the moment he's been waiting for so long.

As she parts her lips to utter a feel words of appreciation, Tony raises his hand in the air. "Don't thank me yet", he warns her, reaching for his iPhone in his back pocket. He taps the screen softly until he finds what he's looking for - and, when he does, he rests his cell on the table, taking the liberty to take the cupcake from her hand, fitting it back into its box.

The sound of " _Can't take my eyes off you_ ", by Lady Antebellum, starts to float through the air.

Moving closer, Tony holds out his hand for her to grab and he finds he can't quite stop his body's reaction to the way her slender fingers feel around his calloused ones.

Ziva stands up, but freezes on her spot, wearing a doubtful expressi.

Tony just smiles, "It's your birthday, Ziva." Without permission, nor formally asking her to dance, he circles her waistline with his broad arms. "And no one's around."

Coming out of her daze, Ziva still feels unusually fearful, resting her arms around his neck nevertheless.

They fit perfectly and hold their breaths for a second, before falling into effortless, impeccable simple steps.

There's still a significant amount of distance between them and, for that reason, Tony can see Ziva's eyes wattering. He's afraid for a second; unsure if he's crossed the line and can't go back anymore to the way things were.

Testing his self-controll - or her own -, he lifts a hand to fondle her soft curls, holding her gaze as if giving her no other choice.

Feeling incredibly happy but also homesick and dangerously in love, Ziva surprises her partner by closing the distance between them and resting her forehead on his shoulder, "I was once told that..." Her voice fails her; so Tony tightens his hold, nuzzling his face against her own. The touch must have left the desired effect, because she finds enough strenght to whisper, "One day I would dance with a man who deserved my love."

Tony closes his eyes, feeling them burn, and slides his fingers all over her back. He wants her; he wants her so bad that words cannot explain.

"Does he know he's a hell of a lucky man?", he jokes, kissing her temple.

She doesn't answer; refuses to play that game. "Tony..." Instead she dishevels his spiky hair, as if looking for support. "Will it always be like this?", she inquires, using her softest tune of voice.

"Well", Tony replies, feeling abruptly scared. His heart starts beating faster when he quotes, " _You become responsible, forever, for what you've tamed._ "

That's when Ziva gives in completely.

And they remain there - by themselves, in the middle of the bullpen, sometime around midnight, quietly swaying to the sweet mellody coming from his mp3 player.

"Happy birthday,  _Zee_."


End file.
